


Serendipity

by Proudmoore



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Reader Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 14:03:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16683004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Proudmoore/pseuds/Proudmoore
Summary: You have worked with Ianto for months now and it's taken you all this time to notice that his soulmark matches yours.  Are you willing to disrupt his relationship with Jack by showing him yours?





	Serendipity

You smile wryly, sipping your coffee across the table from Gwen and Ianto, recalling the day you had become part of the Torchwood team.  You’d been minding your own business, out for a run in the woods, when you’d stumbled upon what you’d first thought was some sort of a cult practicing a horrific ritual in a clearing.  The truth, however, had been even more frightening; a group of robed, hooded aliens with faces like melting, drooping wax statues had butchered another jogger and were feeding on their blood.  You had come moments away from your own demise when several shots rang through the air and the aliens began dropping to the ground.  You’d had no idea who the man in the greatcoat was at the time but you welcomed him as an ally.  When he shouted at you to get down, you did, crouching out of harm’s way until one of the creatures had barrelled right for you.  At that moment, you had acted on instinct and jumped up, absorbing the shock of the direct collision, letting the monster tackle you to the ground.

You could hear the man shouting in the background as you wrestled with the creature, its mouth opening to expose teeth like razorblades and needles, ready to tear out your throat.  You’d gritted your own teeth to keep a handle on your fear and rolled the alien over so that your savior would have a clean shot. When he didn’t shoot, however, you began to panic.  You were about to scream at him to do something when two other people burst into the clearing; a woman with her gun drawn, and a man holding some sort of a device that looked like some sort of a brass iPod in his palm.  The man reached out to touch the device with his free hand and you suddenly felt the alien’s weight being removed from you as it became suspended in some sort of stop-motion, freezing as a faint, silvery glow enveloped its body.  
  
It was then that the first man helped you up, dusting you off a bit and turning a million-watt smile down at you.  As he’d made introductions, you’d had a vague idea somewhere in the back of your mind that you’d heard the name Torchwood before, but you hadn’t the faintest idea what it really was.  You’d soon found out, however, and that very same night, as you’d offered to patch up some of the team’s scratches, you’d been recruited as the team’s new medic and you haven’t looked back since.

* * *

Focusing on your new job has given your life new meaning, and has been a great escape from the breakup you had suffered just prior to your joining Torchwood.  You have no time to dwell on whether you’ll ever beat the astronomical odds and find your soulmate like the hopeless romantic that you are, and the tattoo that stretches across your calf is rarely thought of.  Instead, your focus is on watching the cosmos, protecting your planet, and patching up your crew, which is required of you more often than not.  
  
Just days after your most recent trip down wonderment lane, your services are called on once again as Ianto winds up with a large gash down his arm that’s bleeding profusely.  He stalks into the hub’s sunken autopsy suite, unable to look at the blood pouring from his wound and angry enough to spit.  Gwen flanks him, apologies pouring from her one after the other, an endless litany of atonements.  

“I’m sorry I forgot to feed her, Ianto,” Gwen says desperately.  “I swear I thought I had, I must have gotten called away before I could get to her.”  
  
“You know Myfanwy gets hypoglycemic,” Ianto barks.  “She’d never hurt me otherwise.”  
  
“I know,” Gwen sighs defeatedly.  “I really am sorry.  I’ll make it up to you.”  
  
“It’s not me you have to make it up to,” Ianto grumbles.  
  
Gwen’s about to speak again but you interject, having pulled on a pair of gloves and motioned for Ianto to sit on the autopsy table.  
  
“You two can fight this out later,” you reason. “Take a break.  Gwen, please.”  
  
She closes her mouth, looking between you and Ianto for a moment before nodding.  She turns on her heel and rushes off, passing Jack on her way up the steps.  She disappears out of view and you turn your attention back to Ianto, taking his arm in your hands and turning it over to get a better look at the injury.  As you ponder whether or not a pterodactyl bite is cause for a rabies shot, Jack comes in to stand next to you and get a gander of his own at the wound.  
  
“She got you good,” the captain says with a low whistle.  “And she’s ruined your shirt.”  
  
You nod at Jack’s words, picking up a set of forceps and getting to work on removing torn pieces of fabric from inside the gashes, earning yourself a hiss of pain from the Welshman.  
  
“It would probably be easier if you just took your shirt off,” Jack offered.  “I’ll go get you a clean one.”  
  
You pause in your ministrations as Jack disappears, looking up at Ianto.  
  
“He’s right,” you agree.  “Off with it.”  
  
As Ianto acquiesces and moves to undress, you turn away and strip off your gloves.  Putting on a clean pair, you quickly set up everything you’ll need for sutures, briefly pulling up Ianto’s medical file to ensure his tetanus immunization is up to date.  Satisfied that it is, you return to his side, picking up some gauze and a bottle of saline, getting ready to work on the wound.  
  
As you work, the two of you make small talk and you can feel some of the tension leaving Ianto’s body.  You quickly manage to clean, anaesthetize, and suture the wound, and before long you’re beckoning Ianto to inspect your handiwork as you prepare to dress the injury.  The young Welshman appears to be in much better spirits as you move to wrap his arm in gauze, and it’s then that Jack reappears with a clean, fresh shirt in hand.  
  
“Don’t put it on just yet,” Jack cautions as Ianto reaches for the garment.  “You’ve manged to get blood all over your back.  Let me clean you up first.”  
  
You look up as you finish securing Ianto’s dressing.  
  
“I’ve got it,” you offer.  “I’m all gowned and gloved up anyway.”  
  
“You’re a peach!” Jack says with one of his characteristic grins as he sets the shirt down on the end of the table and turns, leaving you and Ianto alone once more.  
  
Emptying the small metal wash basin of its contents, you refill it with clean saline and pick up a cloth, soaking it in the solution and stepping around to the other side of the table.  As you reach out to clean the blood off of Ianto’s flank, you glance up and, for the first time, see his tattoo.  It’s right over his shoulder blade and your hand stops moving on his skin as your breath catches in your throat.  
  
“Everything alright?”  Ianto asks, craning his neck around to try and get a look at you.  
  
“Fine,” you say hurriedly, immediately resuming your washing.  
  
Your heart is beating hard in your chest as you gaze at the familiar image on his shoulder.  You can barely believe your own eyes as the same image that’s stared up at you from your own calf your entire life is now staring back at you from Ianto’s shoulder, the colors and contours so perfectly twinned from your own tattoo that there’s no mistaking it.    
  
Dropping the bloodied wash cloth back into the basin, you pick up a dry one and quickly towel Ianto off, ripping off your gloves and leaning your weight against the counter.  Meanwhile, Ianto dresses a few feet away and steps over to you, looking down at you.  
  
“Are you okay?”  He asks.  
  
You nod mutely, waving away his concern.  
  
“Just a headache,” you murmur.  
  
“Alright, well, let me bring you some coffee, it might help,” he says softly.  “And thank you for stitching me up.  Again.”  
  
You smile weakly and nod, sinking to the floor as Ianto leaves the room.  You drop your head into your hands and laugh silently, unable to believe that you’ve actually managed to beat the unfathomable, insurmountable odds and find your soulmate.  The only problem is, now what do you do?  Ianto is in a happy, committed relationship already… with your boss.  While your own romantic life has thus far been a serious of catastrophic disasters, you know Ianto has found happiness and you can’t possibly risk taking that away from him.

* * *

You haven’t slept well in days and you know it hasn’t gone unnoticed.  Gwen is speaking more softly, as though she’s worried you might snap at any moment. Ianto is making his coffee stronger, though it’s doing nothing to touch the impenetrable fog that’s settled in your mind.  Besides, every time you cross paths with the Welshman now, all you can think about is the tattoo on his shoulder and how insane you’re driving yourself by not saying a word.  
  
A moment later, you jump as you’re startled out of your reverie by Jack’s voice coming from right behind you.  You whirl around from where you’re entering files on your latest alien necropsy and look up at your boss.  His usual grin is in place, but there’s something different in his eyes, something you don’t recognize.  
  
“Are you busy?”  He asks.  
  
You shake your head.  
  
“Good,” Jack says with a nod.  “Let’s go for a ride.”  
  
You have no idea what he has in mind, or whether or not to bring any sort of weapon, but you do as he says.  Grabbing your coat on your way by the rack, you slip it on to ward off the damp Cardiff chill as you step out into the morning light.   
  
The two of you drive in silence for twenty minutes, heading out of the city and down a long, winding country road.  You pass one small corrie loch after another, left behind in the wake of the last glaciation, until you arrive on the quiet shore of a nearby stream.  Jack pulls over and unbuckles his belt, getting out of the SUV and strolling to the water’s edge.  Following suit, you hop out of the vehicle and join him on the bank, watching the water ripple as it parts around stones jutting out above the surface.  
  
“You haven’t told him yet,” Jack says matter-of-factly; it’s a statement, not a question, and you know without asking exactly what he’s referring to.  
  
“How do you know?”  He asked.  
  
Jack chuckles, glancing over at you, shielding his eyes from the early sun.  
  
“Why do you think I offered you the job instead of retconning you back to before your first alien encounter?”  Jack says as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.  “When you were wrestling with that alien, your jogging pants pulled up and I saw your tattoo.  I’ve seen it so many times on Ianto that I recognized it immediately.”  
  
You pause, letting the silence grow between the two of you for several minutes as you roll his words over in your mind.  
  
“But you love him,” you say quietly.  
  
“I do,” Jack replies.  “Which is why I can’t stay with him.  He has so many human experiences he needs to share with someone – raising kids, taking care of someone when they’re sick, growing old together; those aren’t things I can give him.  You can, and you’re pretty well guaranteed to be the best one for the job.”  
  
Jack gestures at your lower leg and you feel as though you can almost sense the tattoo there burning.  Taking a deep, shaky breath, you finally nod, meeting Jack’s gaze properly for the first time.  
  
“How do I tell him?”  You ask, completely lost in your sea of emotions.  
  
Jack shrugs.  
  
“You’ll figure it out,” he replies sagely. “You two are meant to be.”

* * *

You’re trembling as you walk into the hub a few days later, though it’s not from the chill in the air outside.  You’re not very good with words sometimes, and so you chose to make a statement in another way.  
  
Your skirt swishing around just above your knees, you walk down the steps and hang your coat up on a hook on the wall. You know Ianto is in already because you can smell coffee in the air mingling with the usual scents of dampness and rusty metal that always permeate the hub.  Taking a deep, shaky breath, you drop your bag on the sofa in the alcove and make your way toward the lunch room.  You can hear Ianto moving around, washing up after breakfast, and you pause in the door jamb.  His back is turned to you and you almost turn around and walk away again, thinking this is a stupid idea, when he glances over his shoulder and sees you, smiling warmly.  
  
“Morning,” he greets cheerfully, turning off the taps and drying his hands as he turns to face you.  
  
You can tell just by his overall demeanor that he and Jack had been together the previous night, to say nothing of how mussed his hair was.  Returning his smile with one of your own, knowing you’re trapped now, you step into the room, praying inwardly that he doesn’t look down, but of course he does.  
  
“That’s quite the change of wardrobe,” he comments.  “It looks good.”  
  
“Thanks,” you say lightly, stepping past him to get at the coffee.  
  
Ianto steps in your way.  
  
“Why don’t you sit down?  I’ll get you a coffee, and there are still a few pastries left over,” he suggests.  “I just picked them up this morning.”  
  
You nod and watch as Ianto goes about his task, but you find yourself unable to move.  You’re standing at the head of the table and you know he can see your tattoo from his vantage point if he looks down; you’re torn between hiding it and not straining the sanctity of his commitment to Jack, and between what Jack told you – that you and Ianto are meant to be together, and he deserves to know, at the very least, and to be given the choice.  
  
You don’t realize how long you’d been frozen in place, thinking, until you hear the shattering of ceramic and feel something warm and wet splash across your ankles.  Whipping your head around, you see Ianto standing frozen a few feet away, the splintered remains of a coffee mug at his feet and an unmistakably horrified expression on his face.  
  
“Ianto, I-“  
  
Your words are cut off as he interjects.  
  
“How long has Jack known?” He asks, his voice trembling.  
  
“I,” you pause, realizing he hadn’t said what you’d thought he was going to.  “Since the first night we met.”  
  
Ianto considers your words as anxiety fills your chest, making you want to just run and hide away.  It must be evident on your face because as Ianto glances over at you again, his expression clears to one of concern and he steps forward, pulling out a chair for you.  He takes your hand, tugging on it gently to encourage you to sit.  You allow yourself to be led and you settle in the proffered chair, attempting to take your hand back only to find Ianto holding it tightly. You watch as he comes to kneel beside you and your heart is pounding as you meet his eyes, afraid of what you’ll find reflected in them.  
  
“I’m not upset with you,” Ianto reassures you, glancing away from your eyes to your tattoo.  “I wouldn’t have known what to say, either.”  
  
You jump a little, startled, as you feel him brush his fingertips gently over the curve of your calf, tracing the curving lines of the image there.  You never imagined you would find anyone who would be so fascinated with your tattoo, least of all your soulmate, and the touch makes you nervous; you just don’t know what it means.  
  
“I never thought I’d find you,” Ianto murmurs. “It’s strange – to think that you’ve been right here for so long, and that I was so focused on Jack that I never even thought…”  
  
You shake your head to stop him.  
  
“I get it,” you interject.  “I’ve never had any romantic feelings, either.”  
  
The two of you sit in silence for a moment in the wake of your words, pondering.  You wrap your arms around yourself, warding off the chill of nervousness, and you feel Ianto squeeze your hand.  Exchanging glances with him, you smile softly.  
  
“I need some time to think about this,” Ianto says gently.  “I’ve given a lot of myself to Jack; I can’t just undo that in a day.”  
  
You nod, feeling the flicker of hope you’d had dwindle a little bit.  Ianto, clearly sensing your upset, reaches up with his free hand and gently touches your cheek, encouraging you to turn your face toward him again.  
  
“It’s not a no,” he says firmly.  “Not at all.  It’s not even a maybe – I just need to sort some things out.  I just… I want to get to know you better.”  
  
The relief you feel sets every nerve ending in your body on fire and you laugh softly, nodding.  Reaching up, you cover his hand with yours, pressing it to your cheek, letting him know wordlessly that it’s okay to touch you.  
  
“I’d like that very much,” you say breathily, your voice wavering a little from the gamut of emotions you’re running.  
  
“How about we get together later?”  Ianto suggests.  “We can go out to dinner, wherever you’d like, and then we can talk.”  
  
Before you can accept his offer of a date, a shadow falls before the two of you and a voice interrupts your discussion.  
  
“How about now?”  Jack says brightly, smiling down at the two of you like a proud father.  “I’ll clean this mess up, you kids take the day off.  I’ll holler if the world starts ending.”  
  
You roll your eyes at him, clearing your throat a little awkwardly, feeling grateful for any excuse to get out of the hub for the day.  Ianto, who is so much more used to Jack’s antics, stands and offers you his hand like none of the awkwardness you felt just moments ago had ever happened.  He’s charming and you’re grateful.  You take his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet, and straighten your skirt once you’re up.  The two of you wordlessly walk past the captain, Ianto leading you chivalrously by the arm, walking at a pace slow enough for you to keep up with easily even in your high heels.  
  
The two of you stop at the coat hooks and when you’ve slipped back into your outerwear, you turn around to find Ianto standing incredibly close to you.  You gasp at his proximity and he puts his hands on your upper arms, helping keep you balanced.  You look into his soulful blue eyes, searching them, closing your own as he leans in closer to you.  
  
As your lips meet, you don’t protest. You allow Ianto to kiss you, to encourage you to part your lips just a little bit so he can taste you.  Your breathing is reduced to a shallow panting and you cling to the lapels of his coat as he pulls back a few moments later, your head reeling.  Your eyes flutter open and you scramble to try to string together some words.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Ianto says lightly, letting you go once you’re stable on your feet.  “That was forward of me.  I just… it’s been a long time since I’ve kissed a woman.”  
  
You shake your head.  
  
“Not at all,” you say hurriedly.  “It’s okay.  I… haven’t had the best track record myself.  That was nice.”  
  
Ianto smiled wryly.  
  
“I was hoping for something a little bit more impressive than  _nice_ ,” he chuckled.  
  
It was your turn to laugh.  
  
“Nice is a pretty good start,” you murmur, reaching out to take his hand.  “Maybe we can try it again over dinner?”  
  
From the shadows, Jack watches the two of you leave the hub.  His heart is both heavy and filled with happiness for the man he loves so much. If Ianto is to be with someone else, Jack is glad it’s you.  Smiling, he turns and reaches for his greatcoat.  There’s a little bar at the end of time on the other end of a quick code entered into his wrist strap where he’s sure he can find a way to take his mind off of his own heartache, if for no one else’s sake than Ianto’s.


End file.
